Grancourt Family/Templ and the Tattoo

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Templ and the Tattoo

(It was a normal day for the realm of Heen, and especially for the High Marshall Thrydwulf. He sent off his scouts, and awaited their return. He got worried when one didn't come back and sends his brother to look for him. Here is how things unfolded:)

The Scouting

Thrydwulf had been waiting for his scout to come back from Gilhalcert for a long time. All the other boys he sent out had returned to him and as far as he was aware there was nobody "dangerous" in the vicinity. A worried frown crossed his face for a few minutes as he thought about what to do.

"You there, no...not you, your brother...yes. Tell me, did i send you out to scout somewhere already?"
"No Master, you just sent Seb, Ross and Steve."
"Oh, so you must be Rich? I would have hated to have been your father the way you all look the same...bet you used that to your advantage hey?"
"Oh yes sir! We always used to pretend..."
"Yes yes, enough of that" Thrydwulf interjected. "Now, i want you to go and see where Ross is, he's not come backfrom Gilhalcert yet."
"I noticed that sir, but there's nothing bad there is there?"
"That's what you're going to find out you oaf..."

And with that, the young boy jumped to his feet and ran off in the direction of Gilhalcert. Thrydwulf watched him leave with that same wrinkled brow as before.

---

As night began to fall on the camp of the Celtic Order in Kording, and the Celts began to sing songs around the campfire, each of them now with a newly branded tattoo (but Thrydwulf was yet to have his done), Thrydwulf could be found looking in the direction of Gilhalcert.

There was some movement on the horizon, and Thrydwulf stood up to get a better look as the light faded on the desert sands, his skin browned by the constant heat from the glowing orb that brought and sustained life even in the dry arrid desert. His hands were slightly roughened from holding a lance and sabre since his arrival in the desert lands.

Shouting out towards the figure running towards them, Thrydwulf hailed: "Is that you boy?"
"Aye, it's me, Rich." the young'un shouted back breathlessly.

Thrydwulf turned towards the fire and reached for the jug of water left from the evening's meal and poured a glass and turned around ot wait for the boy to enter camp.

"Here you are son, what news do you bring of Ross?"
As he handed over the cup of cold water and watched the boy drop his eyes and drink greedily he realised the delay in the answer and had already feared the worse.
"Should I rally the men and prepare for a morning battle? I saw no red sky this evening...?"
The boy was still reluctant to spea,and continued to drain the cup.
"Come now boy, where is Ross?"
"Sir Thrydwulf, sir..." and just as the boy burst into tears and began to sway Thrydwulf caught him and laid him down gently in the still warm sands. Quickly checking him over for injuries Thrydwulf was puzzled when he found nothing wrong, and suddenly it hit him.
"He's dead isn't he? I am sorry Rich. Here, have another drink and i will tell your brothers."
"But sir, there's no need to panic and rally the troops."
Thrydwulf looked quizzically at the boy and waited for an explanation...
"Your good friend Templ sends his greetings and his apologies. He reacted quickly iin these dark times, and he...h kil...killed...."

Thrydwulf forced another drink into the boys hand and stood up to find his identical brothers. "Good news and bad news" he thought to himself as he went to find the sleeping boys he used as scouts inside their tent. "At least i have heard from Templ again!"

The Tattoo

Thrydwulf left the boys tent feeling sorry for them. To lose a brother especially at so young an age is hard on anyone. "But thinking like this brings back memories of Laurie so stop it!" He thought.

As he headed back to the camp in a somber mood he saw his good pal Erin joking around with the other troop leaders of the Celtic Order, and thought about joining them. "Why not? Erin'll cheer you up he's good at that!"

As he approached the laughing Celts - most of whom had brilliant ginger hair and beards to match - he noticed how they were lit up by the blazing fire. Just before he could take a seat, something caught him unawares.

"THRYDWULF MY MAN! Where've you been hey? Trying to escape your tattooing no doubt. Now, you're coming with me, and we'll fix you up good an proper!"
"But, wha? huh?! Argh" Thrydwulf managed to choke out as Erin got him in a headlock and walked him towards the other side of the fire. "What tattoo? Why do i need one of those?"

Without saying anything, Erin took the metal device he'd been using and held it near the base of the flames until it glowed slightly.

"Now, that's the important part that bit - the cleaning of the needle..."
"Needle? what?!"
"Yes, yeh heard me - needle. Now where ye be wanting your tat'?"
"Erin man, what's this all about?"
"Everyone else has one, don't be such a girl, it doesn't hurt...that much."
"It's not the pain Erin. Believe me i've felt pain, although not like Seamus and Beatrice. Those brands from Summoner still look like they hurt."
"Well what you whining about now then?"
"Well, it's all a bit, erm...permanent isn't it?"
"That's the whole idea you nonce...now come on, where'll you have it? Seamus has it on his neck, how about there?"
"Well, alright i'll have one, but not on my neck no...hmmm you know, i always thought it would be good to draw some patterns on my arms to match the lance i carry, but what about on the backs of my hands?"
"Ah, good choice...painful but good choice. Now, this wont take long..."

Through gritted teeth and plenty of hard breathing, Thrydwulf managed to get through the half-hour of pain leaving a bloody and dark mess on the back of his hand. You could just make out the black circle shape of the Celtic Knot with the interwoven thread through the beads of blood collecting from where the needle had entered.

"Here now, place this on yer hand and don't remove it till it stops hurting you here?"
"Aye Erin. So...written up any more of that stuff so i can file it for the guild?"